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A rude cabin with a red-stone chimney and clay-chinked cracks between the logs, stuffed to bursting with furs and pelts and horns and traps, marked the home of the trapper. "Wal, we're hyar," sung out Slingerland, and in the cheery tones there was something which told that the place was indeed home to him. "Shore is a likely-lookin' camp," drawled Red, throwing his bridle.
And then a familiar feeling assailed her, one she never failed to have upon returning to her father's ranch a reluctance, a bitter dissatisfaction with her home, a loyal struggle against the vague sense that all was not as it should be. At the head of this canyon in a little, level, grassy meadow stood a rude one-room log shack, with a leaning red-stone chimney on the outside.
Of the various traditions of the many tribes, I here present a few. The Great Spirit at a remote period called all the Indian nations together at this place, and, standing on the brink of the precipice of red-stone rock, broke from its walls a piece and fashioned a pipe by simply turning it in his hands.
It is a regular well, black with foliage, consisting of fifty small red-stone houses clustered round a long Italian church, at the bottom of a ravine between rigid hills and coloured sandstone rocks, over which stretch immense forests of larch and juniper trees.
My father, exhaling sweet-scented smoke, assented 'How, Then interrupting the 'Eya' on the lips of the round-eyed talebearer, he asked, 'My friend, will you smoke? He took the pipe by its red-stone bowl, and pointed the long slender stem toward the man. 'Yes, yes, my friend, replied he, and reached out a long brown arm.
The travellers go from the forest road up to the top of Kinnakulla, where a stone is raised as the goal of their wanderings. The traveller reads in his guide-book about the rocky strata of Kinnakulla: "At the bottom is found sandstone, then alum-stone, then limestone, and above this red-stone, higher still slate, and lastly, trap."
Two days' travel from the river, along the saw-toothed range of Echo Cliffs, stood Presbrey's trading-post, a little red-stone square house in a green and pretty valley called Willow Springs. It was nearing the time of sunset that gorgeous hour of color in the Painted Desert when Shefford and his party rode down upon the post. The scene lacked the wildness characteristic of Kayenta or Red Lake.
They had frisked a bit, maybe, the way horses will at one o' them autos that squirted by, and he had quieted 'em down but there wa'n't nobody.... And he was the last link between little Betty Harris and the world all the bustling, wrestling, interested world of Chicago that shouted extras and stared at the house on the lake and peered in at its life at the rising and eating and sleeping that went on behind the red-stone walls.
The red-stone walls had thinned to a veil and the whole world might look in because a child had been snatched away; and the heart of a city understood. But no one but James could have told what had happened to the child sitting with her little red cherries in the light; and James was stupid and in the bottomless abyss of James's face the clue was lost.
"An' at this Crooked Claw tosses the bunch of Ute top-knots to one of his squaws, fills up his red-stone pipe with kinnikinick an' begins to smoke, lookin' as complacent as a catfish doorin' a Joone rise. "Bill Connors has now been wanderin' through this vale of tears for mebby she's twenty odd years, an' accordin' to Osage tenets, Bill's doo to get wedded.
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